


Taken By You

by JinxxMarquette



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt knows he fucked up, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Is In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, eskel suggests the radical idea of apologizing, lambert and jaskier are mentioned, post mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxxMarquette/pseuds/JinxxMarquette
Summary: For the past twenty winters or so, ever since that bard started trailing Geralt around the continent like a troublesome pet, Geralt hasn’t been short on things to bitch about when he comes back to Kaer MorhenHowever one winter (after one very specific mountain) Geralt returns to the keep suspiciously silent on all matters of Jaskier and the other witchers all begin to worryEskel takes it upon himself to get to the bottom of this, even if it means making his brother apologize to his wayward bard
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 494





	Taken By You

Eskel can’t say that winters in Kaer Morhen are always necessarily a happy time given the tainted memories of their past that haunt the keep, but usually they manage to find a sort of comfort in the presence of their own kind, sharing stories and getting ridiculously drunk. 

But ever since the last of them traipsed through the gate before the first heavy snow it’s been…..weird. 

Correction: Geralt’s been weird. Weirdly somber. Which is saying a lot about the usual stoic bastard that he is that he must be well and truly miserable if even Lambert is picking up on it. 

For the past twenty winters or so, ever since that bard started trailing Geralt around the continent like a troublesome pet, Geralt hasn’t been short on things to bitch about. 

The bard seems to be Geralt’s biggest talking point, and Eskel has heard many a grievance about the bard that doesn’t seem to have a goddamn sense of self preservation as he skips after Geralt on hunts. 

How he dresses in obnoxiously bright colors and wears boots that are laughably unsuited for walking the Path. How the bard never shuts up and could probably talk a ghoul back into its grave. His dalliances with women and men alike, and the angry spouses that often come after, chasing them out of town. The incessant playing of his lute as he reworks song after song at all times of day or night. How he’s seduced Roach by feeding her sugar cubes, and Geralt now worries how the added sugars will affect her.

Eskel often wondered if this bard was such a nuisance why Geralt had let him follow him around for the past twenty years. If he didn’t know any better he would think that Geralt hated him. But he did know better. 

Because when Geralt was four ales into a night of drinking, he’d talk about the blue of his eyes. Brighter than any open sky and how they shone whenever he managed to make Geralt laugh. How he gave out smiles like they meant nothing, except for the special one he saved for Geralt alone. How he laughed like the world was their own private joke and everything was funny.

He spoke of the man’s bravery, facing monsters at Geralt’s side without blinking when others would have run screaming. How he once jumped in the way of a griffin poised to strike at Geralt’s back and the scar that stretched across his stomach because of it.

The bard, Jaskier, his name was Jaskier and wasn’t that fitting that he was named after a buttercup, a flower so beautiful yet so poisonous and deadly. That was Jaskier, pretty and poised in his colorful doublets, deadly and wild with a knife clutched in his hands, slashing out at the bandits jumping them on the road.

Jaskier got into bar fights like it was his job, sparing no thought to how hopeless a fight when some other idiot has decided to spit poison about witchers.

Geralt would never admit it, but Eskel always thought that the way that he spoke of his bard sounded a lot like love. 

Witchers didn’t get love. They had often been told they weren’t worthy of it. Humans loved to spread the rumors that they were incapable of it. But somehow Geralt had found it. And admittedly, it gave the rest of them a little bit of hope. 

This winter, when Geralt walked into the keep there was no mention of his bard. There were no humorous stories of exploits as they drank into the night. There wasn’t a word on Jaskier for the first week, and that’s when the rest of them began to worry.

Had something happened to the bard? Had a hunt finally gone wrong? Had he, for some godforsaken reason, left? Off to get married to some nice girl and settle down?

It was almost the end of winter by the time Eskel finally worked up the courage to ask Geralt on the whereabouts of his bard. 

He wasn’t prepared for the pained look on his brother’s face.

“Gone.” was all he said, the words torn from his throat.

“Gone?” Eskel asked, “He’s dead?” Geralt clenched his teeth, and his arms crossed in a painfully tight grip.

“No. He could be. I haven’t seen him in a while.” Eskel’s eyes widened as Geralt told him the tale of his disaster of a mission up the mountain and the awful words he had spat at his bard. How he could smell the tears on Jaskier’s face as he walked away. Geralt slumped into a seat, his head in his hands.

“I pushed him away, Eskel. I fucked it all up.” Eskel sat down in the seat across from him. 

“Yeah, you did. But I don’t think it’s beyond fixing.” He felt Geralt’s eyes on him, and didn’t have to look to feel the question in them. He chose his next words carefully.

“I’ve had to listen to you moan on about this bard for the past twenty winters. You love him. I’ve always seen you fight for the people you care about. Why is this different?”

“I was terrible to him. I treated him horribly when all he ever did was try to please me.”

“Have you tried apologizing?” Geralt sat silently for a moment.

“No.” Eskel smacked his shoulder.

“You idiot. Why the fuck not?” Geralt sighed a long suffering sigh.

“I didn’t think he would listen.” Eskel rolled his eyes, his brother really could be a fucking idiot.

“You should do it anyway, he might listen. And if he doesn’t, it’s not like you’re not above groveling. Jaskier seems worth the potential ego hit.” 

He could practically see the cogs turning in Geralt’s mind, working overtime before coming to a complete halt.

“I don’t know where to start.” Eskel laughed, throwing his head back before meeting Geralt’s increasingly annoyed gaze.

“Why don’t you start with telling him that you care about him?”

Eskel may have spent the winter having to deal with a somber, moping Geralt, but as he watched the man gallop out of the keep on Roach as soon as the last snow began to melt, he had a feeling the next winter may be a lot more exciting. 

He couldn’t wait to meet the bard he had heard so much about.

**Author's Note:**

> come join me on all matters of the witcher on tumblr! @innocentbi-stander
> 
> I love comments!


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